


my head is spinning

by fairytaletrue



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: And that is what this is, F/M, I'm gonna be honest I just watched the pro-shot and have a LOT of Ben Fankhauser feelings, I'm not sorry, It's fluff pure and simple, Multi, V light mention of Spot/Race & Jack/Katherine so don't come here seeking a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25239859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytaletrue/pseuds/fairytaletrue
Summary: Davey knew a lot. He knew how to form unions and make rallies and herd all manner of stray children into some aspect of organisation. He even knew how to fight, sort of. What he didn't know was the first thing about girls. Or bicycles. That's about to change.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Original Female Character(s), Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Kudos: 13





	my head is spinning

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I just love Ben Fankhauser's Davey and want him to have all the best things in life, like first love. That's what this is.

Helen quickened her pace, cursing the chorus of skirts, collars, sleeves and ribbons that worked in feminine unison to impede any sort of freedom of movement. She liked clothes. Loved them really, but it was abundantly clear to her that whoever decided what was fashionable for middle class women in New York had given absolutely no thought to form and function. She was going to be late, and the chances of Mrs Winthrop accepting “I can’t walk in these damnable skirts” as a reasonable excuse for tardiness were slim to none.

As she turned the corner, she glanced back longingly at an advertisement for the safety bicycle. Now there was a way to get about town. If she’d owned one of those, she would never have to worry about lateness again. It was out of the question though. Bicycles cost $75, a sum that represented an ungodly percentage of her annual wages as a nanny. She allowed herself to picture it though. Smoothly sailing through the streets, the breeze in her hair, the sun on her face…

“Can I interest you in the latest news, Miss?”  
Helen started out of the daydream and locked eyes with the boy. _Oh._  
  
She’d walked the same route since taking up employment with the Winthrop’s and had always purchased The World from a bespectacled and relentlessly charming kid who informed her his name was Specs. She’d commented she thought his birth certificate might disagree with him.  
Specs had simply grinned, “Don’t need no piece ‘a paper to tells me who I am”  
“Well lucky for you, I need pieces of paper to tell me the news.” she’d replied, handing over the money.

Specs, and every other newsie she’d met, had never asked her _if they could interest her in the latest news_ in that sweet, polite tone this boy used. Mind you, they’d tried everything else. Imaginary headlines more interesting than the real ones, wolf whistles, crooned compliments, fake injuries and made-up grandmothers that could only be saved if she bought a paper. In fact, the only other person who had ever asked her if he _could interest her in the news_ had been Jack Kelly, newsie extraordinaire, who had quite clearly not been asking about being interested in the _news_ at all.  
  
As she stared at this new boy, she noted other differences. He was cleaner for one, stood taller, and as she played back his question, she realised he lacked that Manhattan drawl that added vowels and plurals where they didn’t belong. He was handsome too. Tall and lean with warm brown eyes that glimmered with intelligence. Not that the other boys weren’t handsome too - several of the girls she knew were spoony for one newsie or another, but this one....  
And so, before she even realised what she was doing, and in spite of her looming tardiness, she found herself replying. “I don’t know, can you?”  
He flushed, a little surprised at her question, but recovered quickly. “Depends on what takes your fancy” he shot back “do you like sensation, sports, or scandal?”  
She smiled, enjoying the game. “Hmm….” she pretended to think about it. “Sensation I suppose.”  
The boy unfurled the newspaper and made a show of rustling through a few pages, before pausing at one and smiling. “Well there’s a sensational story on page seven here” he offered, but when she moved closer to him to take a look he shut the paper and folded it back up “but if you want to read it, you’ll have to buy the paper.”  
Helen laughed in delight. “You’re quite the salesman, aren’t you?” she said, fishing out her penny and handing it to him. As the coin passed hands, their fingers brushed against each other. His hands were rough, calloused from work in a way hers never would be, but he was gentle all the same. Helen felt her cheeks burn.  
“I do what I can” he replied.  
The two of them fell silent as the transaction concluded. Both clearly wanting to extend the conversation, but unsure how to go about it.  
Helen tucked the paper under her arm and smiled up at him. “Well, I should be going.” she said eventually, reluctantly, her heart thrumming a hummingbird’s rhythm.  
The boy looked down at his boots. “Ah, okay. Enjoy your day.”

She hesitated, then set off down the street to the Winthrop's, a little disappointed in herself. Lottie, the Winthrop’s kitchen maid, would have had no issue charming the handsome newsie. She probably could have gotten the paper for free. Not that Helen had wanted the paper for free. It was just… Lord, she didn’t even know the boy’s _name_. She considered turning around, but she was already late. Then again, if she was already late perhaps another minute wouldn’t matter. Just enough time to find out the name, then continue on her way. She turned around to ask, only to find the boy right behind her, arm reached out to tap her on the shoulder. She jerked back in shock, the paper falling to the sidewalk in the process.  
“Oh I dropped the paper.” she said, stating the obvious, her hands fluttering to her chest to calm her heart. I dropped the paper? She had to be kidding herself. She sounded like one of those stupid girls in the gothic romances Lottie devoured.  
“It’s fine I got it-” the boy reassured, kneeling to the ground to retrieve The World. He was chivalrous too then. God give her strength.  
“I was just turning around-” she began  
“I gave you a fright, I’m sorry-”  
“No it’s fine-”  
“I should have called out I just -”  
“Really, it’s no issue I just -”  
“Wanted to know your name.” they said in unison. Silence.  
She smiled. “Helen Collins.”  
“Davey Jacobs.”  
She held out a hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Davey Jacobs.”  
He took it, shook it firmly. She felt the strength belying the grip and swooned internally. “Likewise.” he replied, handing her the paper back. Again, they lingered. Warm in each other's presence. Too soon, however, the bells of Trinity Church began to toll, giving Helen her final warning.  
“I really do need to be going.” she confessed.  
Davey nodded. “I have papes to sell, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Helen Collins.”  
“The pleasure was all mine.” She replied, feeling oddly formal and flushed all over as she hurried off.

Davey watched the girl hurry down the street, utterly enraptured.  
“That has to be the sorriest display of skirt chasin’ I ever seen in my LIFE” Les declared. Davey turned to face his little brother, who was peeking out from around the corner at him, a delighted grin on his face. “I can’t wait to tell everybody you gotta girl Davey.”  
Davey reached out to grab Les, but the boy weaved out of reach. “Oh yeah? I thought maybe we could double-date, whatever happened to Susie, huh?” he teased.  
“I was too much man for her.” Les boasted. “Something you’ll never have ta worry ‘bout big brother.”  
Davey rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah? A likely story. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were selling with Specs at the usual spot. The blind boy and orphan routine.”  
“Eh, Specs was doin’ fine without me. Boy am I glad I saw that though, funniest thing I seen in a long time.”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you start using that mouth of yours to sell papes Les, we don’t make money from you being a wise-guy.”

Helen and Davey continued to circle each other in a tentatively flirtatious manner for weeks. Watching it happen had become the latest sport for the newsies of Manhattan to follow, with bets and side-bets piling on top of one another at every turn. This, of course, was in spite of Davey’s best efforts to remain discreet, which had included swearing Specs to secrecy over why they’d traded corners and threatening Les with… Well, that was the problem really. Les wasn’t the type to feel threatened. Which was probably why news of Davey and his girl had spread faster than wildfire. Not that she was his girl. She wasn’t, Davey insisted, to anybody who would listen. This all fell on deaf ears though, including Jack’s - who made a show of being mightily offended Davey had managed to garner Helen’s interest when he had been dismissed so easily.  
“But you got a girl!” Davey protested.  
“The best girl there is too!” Katherine pointed out, clearly more amused than offended.  
“It ain’t about that, Davey. It’s about my poor wounded pride. What’s a guy ta do? What you got I aint?”  
“About four inches in height to start.” Katherine pointed out, to uproarious laughter from everyone in Jacobi’s.  
  
Even Spot Conlon knew about Davey and Helen. He'd actually asked Davey if he could hurry up with asking her out, on account of the fact Spot had bet on it happening this week and all. Spot Conlon of Brooklyn. Which meant the news had grown legs, exited Manhattan and travelled across a goddamn river. Which begged the question of why they were in the newspaper business at all, if information moved so seamlessly from one borough to the next, why go to the effort of writing it down? (Though privately Davey suspected the news hadn’t grown legs at all. Instead, Race had simply stretched his whilst walking across a certain bridge to see a certain newsie.)  
  
In the end though, as annoyed as Davey pretended to be about the gossiping “like a bunch of bored socialites, the lot of you” he’d groaned when the Greek chorus of taunts started up again every morning, he secretly didn’t mind. He liked Helen, and if seeing her meant the occasional comment, that was okay.  
  
Helen didn’t even bother to hide her grin when she saw Davey at their corner. Butterflies swirled in her stomach and she still felt sort of giddy at the sight of him. She was, in fact, completely mashed, and suspected the feeling was mutual. Though it was hard to tell sometimes. After all, didn’t boys who looked like Davey ask girls on dates all the time? And if so, why hadn’t he asked her? Even if he wasn’t very practiced at asking, Helen reasoned it was the easiest thing in the world to ask a question you knew the answer to. He must have known too, she was being completely obvious at this point. She was arriving at the corner earlier and earlier, just to have more time with him after all. So what was a girl to do?  
But then he turned to see her, and she forgot all about the anxiety of not knowing.

He cut a fine figure, all long legs and sparkling eyes as he caught sight of her. The butterflies fluttering intensified, which Helen hadn’t previously thought possible.  
“Good morning Helen.” he greeted, a grin on his face to match her own.  
“Morning Davey, what have you got for me this morning?”  
“Headline’s no good, but the company’s excellent.” he assured her.  
She laughed, a pretty thing that sounded like a bell to Davey. “I’ll be the judge of that.” she said, exchanging a penny for a paper and glancing at the headline. ‘Pay-Offs Revealed.’ “I suppose I should be shocked, political corruption and all.” She commented wryly, looking at Davey sidelong. He had shuffled closer to her under the pretense of reading the headline over her shoulder and she felt like a shooting star at the proximity. She could feel his body heat radiating off of him, he was so close they were almost touching.  
Davey smirked. “When did you go and get so cynical Miss Collins?”  
“You know I’m quite unsure,” she responded, turning to face him “but these terrible headlines you keep selling me aren’t doing anything in the way of a cure Mr Jacobs.”  
“Well, something’s got to be done to fix it.” he replied with faux-sincerity, fiddling with his bag.  
She played along, widening her eyes to play up the damsel-in-distress bit. “You’re the man of action Davey, organising strikes and getting soaked by the McClancy boys a few months back, I suppose I’ll have to defer to your expertise for a plan.”  
Davey pretended to think on it. “Well I suppose I am partially to blame, making you pay for bad news and all.” he joked. Helen nodded solemnly at this. “Which would make me responsible for a solution.”  
Helen nodded again. “Indeed.” she intoned.  
“And I suppose… The best cure for cynicism is a good time” he suggested, flush creeping into his cheeks. He scuffed his boots against the pavement nervously.  
Helen bit her lip in mock thought, whilst secretly squealing at the imputation. “Any ideas where I could find one of those?” She inquired, feeling a thrill run down her spine. Was this it?  
“I could show you.” He offered quietly. Helen had half a mind to ask him to repeat himself, but judging from the way he kept nervously fiddling with the peak of his hat, she supposed it would be cruel to toy with him. “If you’re not busy!” he said, before she could respond. “I understand, being a nanny and all you’re probably really busy with the children - I know how that is, truly, you have no idea how much I understand that, and you must be so tired by the end of the day-”  
“Davey”  
“You know what, it was stupid to ask, forget I-”  
“Davey, I would love for you to take me on a date.” Helen said calmly, though she was anything but calm at the thought. She was going to go on a date with Davey Jacobs! Davey Jacobs, newsboy hero and all-around prince of print. Who was so thoughtful and intelligent and…  
Davey looked like someone had given him a right-hook to the face with brass knuckles. Which is to say, he was rather shocked at Helen’s answer. “Oh.” was all he managed in response.  
Helen began to feel sick. “Unless you didn’t mean it that way-” she began  
“No! I did!” he protested.  
The sickness disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Oh thank goodness.” she gushed “I don’t think I could have taken it if you hadn’t.”  
“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.  
Helen beamed. “I am.”  
“Alright, then I’ll meet you here at 8.”  
  
Neither Helen nor Davey had actually ever been on a date. So whilst they were both intelligent young people who understood the broad concept of the thing, neither of them really understood the mechanics. What to wear? Where to go? Should she expect to be kissed? Should he be expected to kiss? There was also the small matter of money, both of them being rather down on their luck in terms of finances. Dutifully, they both sought advice that was varying in its helpfulness.  
  
“Davey it’s beyond me why ya haven’t just grabbed ‘er and kissed ‘er there on the street. The both of yas just stand there talkin’ like a pair o’ loons every mornin’.” Romeo said, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s enough ta makes me question ya smarts.”  
“Our boy can organise a union rally but can’t even fix ta kiss a girl!” Crutchie crowed.  
“If any of you would like to be helpful, I’d prefer that to whatever this is.” Davey complained, panic beginning to set in.  
“Now, now - sit down and listen to tha master!” Jack declared. “It’s very simple Davey, ya take her some spot nice, somewhere ya know she’ll like, ya talk about all the things she likes ta talk about… Right?” Davey nodded. “And then ya STOP talking if ya know what I mean!” Jack cried to the laughter of everyone in the room.  
Davey shook his head in disgust. “Unhelpful, the lot of you.” He moaned, but then he caught eyes with Katherine and an idea began to take root.  
  
“Well, just wear whatever you like best.” Lottie counseled. “And all those uppity women you grew up with are bound to tell you not to kiss him, but I say if you like him why not? You’re only young and beautiful once. You might as well seize the day.”  
Helen nodded dutifully. “Any other advice?”  
Lottie shrugged. “Just enjoy yourself Helen, I’m sure it will be wonderful.”  
  
Helen shivered slightly in the morning air. Being a weekend, the corner was a little busier than usual. Families to-ing and fro-ing, other young people walking arm-in-arm. She warmed at the thought of her and Davey going about in such a fashion. She’d managed to get the day off from work. Despite a reprimand regarding the last minute nature of the request, she’d worked hard enough and the Winthrop’s were nice enough to let it go. She wondered what Davey would do, worried she was inadvertently taking money from his family’s pocket, but as he turned the corner - all buttoned up and wearing a tie no less, she resolved not to worry about it. He seemed unconcerned, so there was no sense in creating trouble unnecessarily.  
“Good morning Miss Collins.” he said, smiling from ear to ear.  
“Good morning Mr Jacobs” she replied, alight with happiness.  
“You look beautiful.” he said sincerely, without a trace of his usual flirtatious teasing, and offered his arm. She took it, loving how it felt to have their arms linked as they walked. She felt if she could just stay in this moment forever, arm-in-arm with Davey on a bright Manhattan morning, she would be incandescently happy for the rest of her life. As Davey took her arm, he felt much the same way about her. Noting how wearing clothes other than her household uniform only served to further emphasise how undeniably beautiful she was.  
“Where are we going?” she wondered, as they strode towards the wealthier part of town. She would have been happy just to drink in the sight of him on a park bench, truth be told. He felt a secret thrill run through him as he simply responded. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”  
  
They turned a corner, and made their way towards one of the private parks reserved for the upper classes.  
“Davey, are we about to sneak into a private park?” she queried. He grinned at the thought of it, picturing Helen with all of her skirts and sleeves attempting to scale a fence.  
“No, I thought I’d save you the trouble of ruining that very pretty dress.” he assured her.  
“I could do it if I had to.” she replied.  
“I have no doubt you could do anything you set your mind to. Thankfully, however, I have a key.” he said, pulling it from his pocket and delighting in the shocked joy on Helen’s face. Just you wait, he thought. Just you wait.  
He pushed the key in, turned the lock, but before he opened the gate he turned to her. “I’d like you to close your eyes please,” he requested. She giggled nervously wondering what this was all about, but obliged. She trusted him after all.  
  
Sensing an opportunity, he pushed open the gate, withdrew the lock, and took her arm in his again, guiding her into the park. After ensuring the gate was closed, he then took the extra measure of covering her eyes with his spare hand. They both started at the contact. Her face was so small, he realised, he could cover the entire width of her face with one hand, and her eyelashes fluttered against his palm, like little butterflies. It was the first time they’d touched skin to skin like this. Their first handshake didn’t count, Davey reasoned, it was all tangled up with the nerves of first meetings and social niceties. This though, this was sustained, intimate. It meant something.  
“This is all very dramatic.” Helen breathed, allowing herself to be guided through the park with a nervous laugh.  
“Nearly there.” Davey assured her, and sure enough, a few moments later and after a little bit of repositioning, Davey said “okay, go ahead - open your eyes.”

She did, and gasped at what she saw. There, standing before her was a real-life safety bicycle.  
“It’s just a loan for the day” Davey said, suddenly worried she might think it was a gift.  
“Of course, of course.” Helen muttered, circling the bike in wonder. “But how on Earth did you manage this? How did you even know I…”  
Davey smiled, watching as Helen stood utterly enraptured by the invention. He’d noticed her staring at the advertisement the first day they’d met, and had never forgotten the look of longing on the beautiful young woman’s face. He’d asked Katherine only yesterday if she owned one, and was delighted to learn she did, and that she’d happily teach him how to use it. As he watched Helen stare in awe, he concluded the few scraped knees and blows to his pride had been entirely worth it. She ran to him and threw herself into his arms, embracing him fiercely.  
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” she confessed gratefully. Davey laughed, loved the way she felt in his arms, and wondered if it would be quite alright by her if they stayed that way forever, but reluctantly pulled away.  
“You haven’t even been taught to ride it yet.”  
Her eyes widened in shocked pleasure. “Truly?”  
“Truly.”  
  
After a serious negotiation with skirts, the morning, then lunch, then afternoon flew by in a series of delighted shrieks and riotous laughter. Neither Helen nor Davey had ever had so much fun in their lives. The pair soon became comfortable touching each other, with the initial thrill of contact fading away, (though never quite disappearing) and making way for playful shoves and unhesitating hands to help up from one when the other had fallen. They had picnicked in the dappled shade of the trees, with soft sunlight filtering through the leaves to cast the young couple in a dreamy glow. Helen privately wondered how Davey had managed to get a park all to himself for an entire day. Davey thanked the stars he knew Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, and that Jack had not gone with his first plan of simply soaking Mr. Pulitzer into lowering the price of papes. He doubted he’d have been able to swing this favour if that had happened.

Too soon, twilight settled on their little corner of paradise, and Davey turned to Helen.  
“I suppose I’d better be getting you home.” he said regretfully.  
Helen wished the day would never end, but sighed, nodding. “I suppose so.”  
The two of them walked, arm in arm back to Helen’s boarding house. She stopped him at the corner and pulled him into a little alleyway.  
“Mrs Hanson doesn’t like to see us with men.” she explained. Davey nodded, though he did wonder why she would object to her boarder being escorted to the door. Surely it was the right thing, better than Helen wandering around alone. Helen shuffled nervously, looking down at her hands. Shy all of a sudden. “I had a wonderful time today Davey. It was a better date than I could have ever even dreamed.” she said earnestly.  
Davey smiled. “I’m glad.”  
  
They stood there, doing that thing they always did, where they didn’t have anything else to say but didn’t want to let each other go. Helen took a little step towards him, and Davey hitched a breath. Suddenly aware of what section of the date it was. That despite Jack’s jokes, there really was a bit where you didn’t _talk._ Helen’s heart thrummed its hummingbird rhythm, something she had realised by now was exclusively saved for when she was around Davey. Davey wasn’t doing much better, and wondered if Helen could hear the thump-thump-thump inside his chest, which for all the world sounded as loud as a marching band to him.  
  
Then he looked down at her, really saw her, and a sort of calm settled over him. She was still studying her hands, as if they were the most fascinating things in the world. Which Davey was sure he could make an argument for. But not right now. He had other things on his mind right now. He tucked his finger under her chin and raised it so she was looking at him. Their eyes met.  
“Hi.” he said, simply, taking a step towards her. The final step really, as they couldn’t get any closer. She smiled, and something calmed in her gaze as well. “I’m thinking I ought to kiss you,” he explained.  
“That’s a very good idea.” Helen replied.  
  
And so they did. Hesitant at first. Brief. The two pulled away to look into each other's eyes. To check. For what neither knew, but whatever it was was found, because Davey wrapped his arms around Helen’s waist and pulled her to him once more, and she found herself cradling the sides of his face, eagerly diving back in. The kiss tasted like the strawberries they’d eaten at lunch, and fresh air, and the whole thing felt like first love and last love and every love in between. Like a single moment and forever all in one. Eventually, they drew apart and grinned at one another.  
“You make my head spin.” Davey confessed.  
Helen nodded in agreement, smiling with incandescent happiness. “You make my head spin too Davey. In the best way.”

The End.


End file.
